Chapter 29
The giant-sized lemonade in my hands is tinted the colour of the blue raspberry syrup Finn squirted into it. I’m positive my lips have gone from peach to blue from how many times I’ve sipped from my straw, but that hasn’t stopped him from kissing me every chance he can get, turning the same colour.
When I laugh? A kiss. When I grin at something he’s said? A kiss. When I call him out for being jealous after a stranger offered to buy me a churro at my favourite dessert stand? A kiss. Though that one was more claiming than romantic.
I’ve never felt so desired by a man before. Like he truly can’t get enough of me, even after spending the last two decades hanging out with me in this exact place.
It’s not only him feeling this pull, either.
Similar to when I watched him take that woman on a fake date, I’ve bristled every single time he’s had eyes on him that lingered a bit too long.
It’s jealousy, no doubt about it. And as concerning as it is, considering I’ve never been a fan of being controlled by that annoying green-eyed monster, I can’t seem to stop wanting to mark my territory.
More women have fallen victim to my glares this afternoon than in all my years of living, and I’ve never shied away from using my eyes to intimidate anyone before. It turns out that I can’t help myself when it comes to Finn. Not anymore.
Everything that I was okay with and didn’t even consider to be an issue in the past suddenly is. I want things that I didn’t or hadn’t ever contemplated. I crave his hands on me and his voice in my ear to the point of madness. I’m distracted at work, which is the scariest part of all of this.
Rather than being in a courtroom, winning cases, I’d rather be on the team plane with Finn as he travels for baseball, watching his sci-fi movies and playing UNO with the team. My paperwork has piled up, and I’m behind on emails because I’m grabbing my phone the moment he texts or calls.
I should be angry about this. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, and there’s no time for distractions if you want your name on the wall like I’ve been dreaming of. Yet those reminders haven’t changed a thing.
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive? I don’t want your feet to hurt when we’ve still got the concert later,” he says, smoothing his hand up my arm.
The heat of his palm sends a rush of warmth through me that seeps deep into my bones. I tighten my grip on his arm and try to mute my smile at his concern. Offering him the final sip of lemonade, I watch him bend down to take the straw into his mouth.
“Have a bit of faith. Heels don’t bother me.”
“Until we’re leaving the concert and you’re asking me to carry you to the car.”
“Well, if that would be such a hassle, I’m sure one of your teammates wouldn’t mind helping me.”
I pinch my lips together and feign nonchalance when he whips his head to stare at me and dumps my empty cup into a nearby trash can. The way his bright blues dig into my face through his tinted sunglasses should scare me, but I revel in it, knowing I’ve drawn this reaction from him.
“I can assure you that not a single member of my team is going to be carrying you anywhere, Aubrey.”
Tilting my head, I ask, “Why not? It would be nice—”
Before I can finish, he’s in front of me, blocking the sun before sweeping me into his arms. I squeak as my legs move out from under me and get thrown over his forearms, dangling.
The strong hold behind my back is nothing compared to the heat of his chest as it presses into me, seeping through my thin top.
I wind my arms around his neck as he starts to walk and meet his gaze, going red beneath the blistering jealousy in his eyes. My lips pop open, and he watches them, exhaling roughly. Any and all moisture disappears from my mouth as I hold my breath and wait for him to speak.
“If you want to be carried, it’s my arms you climb into. No exceptions.”
“That seems pretty claiming.”
His jaw ticks, and for a rare moment, I get to witness the perpetually happy, sweet Finn get angry in a sexy, possessive way. “Because it is. If I need to make a claim on you in front of our friends, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Are you going to ask if I’m okay with that?” I murmur, fully aware that I’m baiting him now.
“Aubrey.”
I shiver against his chest at the growl in his voice, feeling the tightness grow between my legs. “Yes?”
“Keep pushing me and I’m going to keep you to myself tonight instead of sharing you with anyone.”
“And you think I don’t want that?”
He looks up and away from me, his throat pulling tight.
For a sliver of a second, I worry I’ve pushed too far and contemplate apologizing, but then we’re turning off the sidewalk and into a shaded parking lot.
I watch over his shoulder as the street grows smaller and the scent of fried food starts to drift away.
Turning forward, his car comes into view, and my stomach jumps.
Finn doesn’t say anything as he keeps his strides even and calm, but I can’t look away from the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the force of his swallows or how his fingers are digging into my waist like he’s trying to leave his fingerprints on my skin.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice high in pitch.
“Somewhere I can do this without feeling like everyone is watching us.”
“Are you nervous about someone taking photos?”
It wouldn’t offend me if he was. The minute someone recognizes him, snaps a photo of us with him carrying me like this, and posts it online, it’ll become what neither of us has agreed on yet.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been posted about online, but this would be different from all the others.
This would connect us romantically. And it wouldn’t simply be a rumour we could brush off.
Finn’s expression draws in a bit. “No. I’ve never hidden you from the public, Bree. I don’t want to start now.”
“But you have to know what they’ll say this time. You’re literally carrying me bridal-style through the street.”
“Let them talk,” he says, as if it’s that simple.
“I’m being serious.”
His car is only a few feet away when he abruptly stops, his brows cinching. “Do you not want anyone to know?”
“It’s so soon. We’re not even officially together. This is our first date.”
I feel stupid as soon as I get the words out of my system, like I’m pulling an excuse out of my ass that doesn’t mean anything.
“What are you most afraid of, Aubrey?” he asks, softening his voice.
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Yes, you are. And I want to know what it is so I can help.”
Suddenly, we’re too close, and I’m too vulnerable. I release his neck and wiggle enough that he sets me down, albeit reluctantly. His hands linger on my body, smoothing down my shirt and pulling my hair over my shoulders. The caring gestures encourage a searing sensation of guilt to swarm me.
“I’m just not sure we should be rushing into anything,” I explain.
“Who said anything about rushing? I’m not suggesting we post a picture of us kissing on my Instagram and put each other’s initials in our bios.
All I meant is that I’m okay with people seeing us and thinking what they want.
I’ve never hidden you from anyone, and I don’t want that to change.
Not unless it’s something you’d really be uncomfortable with.
You’re already known to the Havoc fans who care enough to dig into our personal lives.
Whether that’s because we’re best friends or something more won’t change that fact. ”
I worry my lip as he moves into my space and drags his big hands down my arms. The immediate goosebumps that spread over my skin are obvious, and I know the moment he notices them.
His sunglasses come off before he rests them on the brim of his hat and offers me an unrestricted view of the devotion glowing in his eyes.
“We go at your pace. If you want to wait to go out again, then I’ll sit patiently and let you come to me.
But if you want to get in my car and make out like a couple of teenagers, I’m going to make sure it’s the best make-out session you’ve ever had.
Hell, if all you need is for me to stand here and rub your arms until you trust what I’m saying, then I’ll keep going until my palms are raw.
Just tell me what you need from me,” he pleads, never retreating.
My mouth curls into a disbelieving smile as I shake my head. I cover his hands with mine and still them before guiding them to my neck and then up to my cheeks. He brushes his thumbs over my lips just once.
“When we were sixteen, I actually caught you making out with Kat Lee in the back seat of your car. The windows were foggy enough that I couldn’t see your face, but I’d seen you walk out of social studies with her, so I put two and two together.”
His laugh is stuttered. “What?”
“Yeah. I can only imagine what went on in there, but I jogged back to the school before you caught me being a creep. I don’t remember what I even wanted to talk to you about. I’m pretty sure whatever it was got burned out of my memory.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you brought up making out in your back seat, and that was the first time I was ever jealous of another girl. At least one you were interested in.” I let a breath go and lean into his palm the way I’ve been aching to.
“I’ve only felt like that a handful of times in the past. It was easy enough to just write it off as me wanting to be the only woman in your life, but I’m not so sure that’s what it was after all. ”
“If you’re telling me you had a crush on me in high school, I’m afraid I’m going to steal your thunder.”
“What?”
“You couldn’t really have thought that I, as a hormone-driven, teenage boy, could look at, spend time with, and touch you without getting remotely interested? News flash, sweetheart: I was into you for at least two years before I forced myself to get over it.”
My chest cracks wide open as I lean forward, grip the front of his shirt in both hands, and haul him in so I can kiss him.
His hold tightens as he responds eagerly and spins us until my back presses against the car. I gasp when the cold metal cuts through my shirt and arch into him instead. A hand drops to my hip and tugs, urging me forward until the only point of contact I have with the door is my shoulders.
“So, is that a yes to making out?” he asks, grinning against my lips.
I curl my leg behind his knee and pull back just enough that I can run my tongue along his bottom lip, tasting the lemonade. Inhaling his cologne, I let his low groan run hot fingers down my body.
“Only if you promise to fog the windows.”